


Knights and Princesses

by limeta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arithmancy (Harry Potter), Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Dorks in Love, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Hogwarts, Luna Lovegood Being Luna Lovegood, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Professor Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeta/pseuds/limeta
Summary: Lord Voldemort wins. Ginny falls in love with Luna.
Relationships: Abraxas Malfoy/Tom Riddle, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	Knights and Princesses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tennesseebedward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tennesseebedward/gifts).



_ They lose. _

Ginny’s heart aches.

They lose so profoundly that Ginny’s young heart thinks it’s going to snap in half. Her brown eyes rest on the cold, lifeless body, centrefold in the Great Hall. Green eyes, once so full of bon vivre, now decadently empty. Ginny leans towards the carrion, but she can’t summon the scream that wants to tear from her throat. She can’t move. She can’t breathe.

That man, that monster, that victor. He speaks and everyone is forced to listen. He asks the children to bow down and join him, because he does not want bloodshed. Magical blood is sacred.

Pure blood even more.

They're purebloods so it's all forgiven if they bow down. This is a privilege not many have. To not take it will be foolish.

Ginny glances over at her family and sees their pale and knowing faces, marred with worry. They see the temper which envelopes her like a coat tailored specially for her; they see that her rapid, vapour tongue may get her into trouble so dangerous it may even lead to her very own demise. There's hellfire in her eyes, igniting them as she's staring up at the monster that has killed the only person she's loved with all of her heart.

Lord Voldemort, Ginny thinks, recognizes her from somewhere, but doesn't know where. It baffles him, irks him, but he doesn’t ask. He asks something else, though it’s equally as painful. ''Will you join us, Miss Weasley?''

It takes all of the restraint she has to keep her mouth shut.

In the end, Ginny knows that she can do only one thing. Slowly, her humiliated and beaten down existence forces her down to her knees. She closes her eyes in a sign of pro forma genuflection and she shivers, even though it’s May – it’s colder than any winter she’s spent her life through.

Ginny hears a relieved exhale come from her mother, right before she's shot by Bellatrix Lestrange. Even though her eyes are closed Ginny perfectly envisions the flash of emerald. Strangely, it’s the same colour as Harry’s eyes.

She doesn't see that agony, that death because there’s a magical force holding her in place, stopping her from looking away and seeing her mother die before her eyes. Though, she hears. She hears. She  _ hears _ .

And these are the sounds of a volcanic eruption singing in her ears, filling her up with molten lava. The world around her spins and she feels a firm grasp on her shoulder that when she looks up comes from Narcissa Malfoy. The magical force dissipates and she can move, but it’s to be led away by the Malfoys. All of them pale, all of them put on the chopping block for when Lord Voldemort’s cleaver may sear into their forms for their subpar loyalty.

Narcissa has a firm grasp on her shoulder, digging her nails into Ginny’s shoulder painfully. Ginny thinks it’s to tell her to behave, but it’s actually to ground them both. Lucius holds onto Draco and whispers in French words that Ginny doesn’t know, but assumes are parental and loving and worried and thankful.

* * *

Luna thinks about her friends and their reactions. Then she comes to a thought that halts the other thoughts. It is much better to preserve the living than to appease the dead. So she bows. Her mother is dead, but her father is alive. He hugs her and he cries into her hair and he calls her lovely, lovely things – thankful to have her alive and well.

* * *

Ginny Weasley isn't a blood traitor, mostly because she's underage.

Luna Lovegood isn't a blood traitor, mostly because she's fallen in with a bad crowd.

* * *

The summer is hard.

It’s especially hard because she’s in Malfoy Manor. A place full of memories that haunt not only her, but the people living here by birthright. 

Bellatrix Black (she’s apparently divorced Rod, due to differences in their beliefs and sexual orientations) is pissed off and nobody knows why. The divorce isn’t it. The divorce, it seems, is actually a very good thing to happen to them both.

Ginny finds Rita Skeeter putting the moves on Bellatrix Black during her post victory interview and wants to gag. They deserve each other, those vipers.

Though, Malfoy Manor is quiet in a solemn sort of way that isn’t normal. It’s quieter than any magical home Ginny has ever been in. She doesn’t know why. Not until she sees that all of the portraits have been made silent. There’s a few portraits in the Burrow, back when her family has been a bit wealthier and they could afford such things. Every magical home has at least one magical painting. And to silence them is disallowed. It’s disrespectful to silence the elderly. 

Lucius Malfoy seems to realise what Ginny’s asking as she’s staring at the miming portraits and sighs: ‘’Before my father died he spelled them silent. We’ve not been able to finite his magic.’’

‘’When did he die?’’ Ginny knows that magic tends to linger, but it’s only for a few months. This death must be recent, then. 

‘’Two years ago.’’

Ginny thinks that this person’s got an abundance of magic for his spells to still hold true.

* * *

Ginny corresponds with Luna.

Luna writes that she loves Ginny and Ginny thinks that Luna loves her like she’s loved every single one of the DA: like a friend.

Ginny writes the words back because if she loves anyone now, it’s Luna.

They talk about creatures and magic and how Luna’s painting her room again because the ceiling is very difficult to look at. Ginny remembers that she’s painted her room with her friends’ faces. The same friends who are dead now.

A sob wretches past her throat and she closes the door to her room and cries until exhaustion catches up with her.

* * *

Lord Voldemort doesn’t live in Malfoy Manor anymore as Bellatrix has dragged him to a manor of his choosing. He picks one that’s settled near the Isle of Man, protected by such potent wards that only Bellatrix can enter.

Without the monster in their home, Lucius breathes more easily. Narcissa’ tight shoulders unwind. Draco stops twitching in fear at every hum or question that he has no answer towards. Ginny still feels angry. So angry that sadness doesn’t even get a chance to shine through, what with the fire evaporating it.

* * *

Often, though, Ginny does catch Lord Voldemort visiting Malfoy Manor to stare upon a painting of a Malfoy. He looks a lot like Draco, or Draco looks a lot like him. Ginny figures it makes no difference to her.

She just wants to survive long enough to go back to Hogwarts and see Luna again.

Let Lord Voldemort try to pry off a painting and fail. Ginny couldn’t care less.

* * *

They don't see each other until September 1st, when they go to Hogwarts to finish their education. Around them are grim faced children. The train hoots and it doesn't elicit the same kind of childhood wonder it's done the previous years.

Ginny sits in a compartment until she can't physically sit still. Then she flings herself upward, tossing her bag over her shoulder, and sprinting through the train, glancing from compartment to compartment. She isn't going to find any of her brothers here – Percy's alive and in the Ministry where they can watch him and hold him on a tight leash. Charlie's escaped through illicit channels Ginny knows only dragon smugglers know to us. He’s not sent her a single letter – but she's asked Narcissa and knows that he isn’t dead. The rest of her family, her brothers, her mother, her father, all twist into a song of mourning that flutters dangerously in her heart.

Luna sits in the last compartment on the train. She is aglow with outlandish luminosity and a sense of indescribable joy about her that Ginny is overcome with lovingly. It’s like seeing your best friend after ages of being apart.

Her face positively lights up when she spots Ginny. There's tears in her eyes. Ginny's crying, too, damn it all. They embrace hurriedly, messily; tightly holding onto each other so that even the world they live in cannot force them apart.

''I can't believe you're here.''

(I can't believe you're alive)

''I'm so happy Nargles protected you. I sent them to guard you.''

(I am so happy you're here with me)

They sit together and they cry and they laugh and they wish for a life where they don't have to worry. They've made their decision to bow, and it has cost them, but it's also given them a chance.

And chances are always welcome.

* * *

Apparently Lord Voldemort wants to fulfil his long lasting dream of teaching Defence.

Personally, Ginny thinks that’s the least surprising thing to happen whilst under the new regime. She’s a child and she’s misguided and if only she allowed people to help her see things clearly everything would work out. But Ginny doesn’t want things to change. She doesn’t want to think that her family is wrong. Percy does. Ginny doesn’t know how to feel about Percy. He’s still the only brother to ask her what’s wrong her first year at Hogwarts.

A letter dutifully arrives from him. Ginny opens it in the Great Hall and reads it. Only her brother can drone on about cauldron control and how he hopes she’s utilizing proper safety procedures. On her second read-through, Ginny spots that it’s a code asking her if she’s all right – what with the Dark Lord teaching her NEWT level Defence class and her being a ward of the Malfoys.

Ginny writes that she hasn’t got a NEWT level Potion’s class because Snape’s failed her before dying and outing himself as some bizarre caricature of a lovesick man. Rumours of Severus Snape’s demise have been greatly exaggerated.

Luna comes by the Gryffindor table often to steal Ginny away. They don’t skip class as they think that skipping class may result in a cruciatus curse, but they do often skive off NEWT prep. The professors don’t say it’s mandatory and it’s much better to have a free period than to listen to Trelawney drone on. Ginny’s beginning to think that having a NEWT level Divination class will be the death of her. Luna, sensing her discomfort, grabs her hand and calms her. Ginny smiles.

* * *

During summer, Ginny remembers being afraid in a visceral sort of way that can’t be put into words.

Mostly because her mother’s killer is yelling at Harry’s killer.

Lord Voldemort’s decided to hand over the empire to Bellatrix to lead, which is too much responsibility for the witch as she’s telling him that she’s not the least bit interested in being their politician. ‘’I’m a warrior!’’ Her name does mean female warrior, she’s being quite literal here. Ginny sits off in the far corner of the drawing room as these two are having a row. Draco is trying to mind his own business, but their eyes lock and Ginny narrows her eyes contemptuously at him. He looks away.

Ginny doesn’t know what’s coming about their world, but she can tell that not even the Death Eaters know what’s going through Voldemort’s head.

* * *

Every seventh year is forced into having a NEWT level Defence class. Whether or not they actually want to sit said NEWT. Lord Voldemort’s adamant about giving everyone their due Defence education. Ginny vaguely recalls Tom and thinks that he hasn’t changed much. He is still as crazy as ever; though just wearing a different skin this time around. A snake stays the same, no matter the skin it’s shed.

* * *

At the end of the summer, something  _ extraordinary _ happens.

Ginny bears witness to Lord Voldemort being told ‘I TOLD YOU SO’ by Bellatrix. Lucius is crying. Draco is beyond confused. Narcissa looks up as if asking the gods why her life is like this.

Because.

Oh  _ because _ .

Someone finds Abraxas Malfoy in  _ France _ , after he’s faked his own death in 1996 to avoid Lord Voldemort’s madness. Bellatrix is good at digging up dead people that aren’t dead. Knowing of his greatest fears and weaknesses, Voldemort decrees that Abraxas ought to join him at Hogwarts to teach.

She’s spent her summer with the Malfoys and the only tolerable Malfoy is Narcissa. Especially after she’s tended to her contrived muscle contractions after a cruciatus curse has been dealt for her treasonous actions. For her lie, she will suffer a fate worse than if she’d kept quiet.

Narcissa’s been spelled mute and they’re both learning sign language as they go along.

Lucius looks at Ginny and remembers an eleven year old girl, but he doesn’t see the fire in her eyes or the way her mouth curls as she wishes a curse to befall him. Draco’s the youngest Death Eater and there’s a likening there, when Bellatrix fails to remember her nephew’s name and calls him another. It starts on an R, and Narcissa says that their king cousin has died a long time ago.

Draco doesn’t like Ginny, but he likes that she’s friends with his mum so he doesn’t call her names. There’s a reluctant apology forming somewhere in there, but Ginny doesn’t wait for it.

Now Abraxas Malfoy is a whole other story. He is unlike any of the Malfoys. 

_ Abraxas Malfoy _ asks her bluntly one morning at breakfast in the Great Hall: ‘’Are you that girl my idiot son gave your Defence professor’s diary to?’’

And not far away Lord Voldemort chokes on his own spit. Ginny glances at the coughing tyrant, then at the Arithmancy professor who’s failed more people than any Arithmancy professor has ever dared, then towards the table where Luna sits and waits and glows and faintly shimmers.

Ginny replies with a shrug.

Abraxas scoffs and tells her she can speak freely with him. He suffers not of god complexes. There’s a jab at Professor Voldemort somewhere in there, but Ginny doesn’t want to get implicated.

‘’I don’t know what you want me to say, Abraxas.’’ 

Professor Abraxas he is not. He says that he hates the title and Ginny has Divination instead of Arithmancy so she doesn’t interact with him often. But Luna does.

Luna says that he’s a very angry and hurt person. Ginny doesn’t see that anger. Correction. She doesn’t see it as a problem, more like. Because she’s angry. She’s so deliberately angry.

Ginny leans on Luna’s shoulder, closes her eyes, and sighs. The wind whistles gently around them, lulling them into a calm.

* * *

Professor Trelawney calls Ginny’s tea readings subpar and wrong. Ginny likes rules. Ginny really, really likes things making sense. Quidditch makes sense. She knows all of the rules for quidditch and all of the exceptions and all of the movements and secret feints lost in time. Divination has no rules. It has no structure. So whenever Ginny tries to do something, it’s wrong.

The anger builds up.

* * *

During Defence, Ginny only speaks when spoken to.

Luna, though, Luna’s become Voldemort’s favourite student. Nobody knows how.

Ginny suspects it’s because she asks questions.

Everyone else is too terrified of interacting with him, unless they’re forced to by the professor himself.

Luna has an aura about her that’s strange and lovely and delightful and calming and soothing and lilting and and and and and and and and and and and

Ginny thinks she likes her best friend more than anticipated. Fuck.

Professor Voldemort asks Ginny a question and there’s a lag in her movement, a slowed instance where she’s caught  _ staring _ at Luna. Oh no. No. NO. Ginny’s face is as red as her hair when the realisation hits her.

Voldemort repeats his question and Ginny sheepishly, hurriedly answers him.

Luna tilts her head to the side and smiles that knowing smile of hers.

_ Fuck _ .

* * *

Quiddich is finally a thing and Ginny Weasley is Captain.

Abraxas cheers for Gryffindor and later on tells her that he only cheers for the victors.

‘’How do you know we’d win?’’ Ginny believes she’s about to receive some sort of ‘intuitive feeling of magic coursing through his veins that enable him to grasp hold of the future long enough to gaze at its marvellous beauty’ answer but instead Abraxas shows her a piece of parchment with equations and numbers on it. Ginny doesn’t know what it is. She says that she’s never had Arithmancy.

Abraxas balks at that. He asks her to come to his class, then.

‘’I’m not advanced enough for NEWT level Arithmancy.’’ Ginny says, her hair tied up harshly in a ponytail, tugging at her brain. She’s dressed in her quidditch attire still and talking to this aristocrat brought back from the dead.

Abraxas scoffs, angrily. Ginny recognizes that anger. And Morgana, she’s happy to see it. She’s thrilled to see it in others. ‘’Nobody knows the basics of Arithmancy. I’ve started teaching them from scratch. Idiots,  _ every single one of them. _ ’’ 

* * *

Luna casts a patronus charm in Defence class and Lord Voldemort is enchanted by her magical prowess. He gives her books to read, magic to practise, theory to debate, and asks  _ her _ many, many questions.

Ginny asks Luna later what it’s like having him so interested in her.

Luna shrugs. ‘’I think he’s very sad.’’

‘’What’s that piece of shit got to be sad about?’’ Ginny sneers.

But then, once they come back from their walk she sees Abraxas sitting as far away from Lord Voldemort as possible, laughing with his cohorts while ignoring the scarce, fleeting, but painful glances from Professor Voldemort.

* * *

Divination is such a terrible experience. Ginny stands up and goes to the Headmaster to change her classes. She drops Divination and takes up Arithmancy.

When she goes to Abraxas’ class she’s met with haunted faces that stare at a man rapidly speaking, but then he sees her and he slows down enough to greet her: ‘’Ginny, darling girl, do take a seat – I was just assigning them homework.’’

Homework, at the beginning of class? What kind of Draconian class has she signed up for?

Ginny sits down in a chair up front and finds that she’s surrounded by Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, a Slytherin, and herself. She takes out her parchment rolls and dips her quill in ink, prepared to learn something.

The way he teaches the basics makes sense. For the first time in her life a subject that’s not got a practical aspect makes  _ sense _ . Ginny asks questions and Abraxas happily supplies the answer. Her eyes scan the numbers and their meanings and she asks, because there’s rumours circulating about Abraxas Malfoy’s expertise. ‘’Could you explain why French Arithmancy is more successful than regular Arithmancy? I mean, they’re all the same numbers –‘’

‘’Eighty.’’ Abraxas says. ‘’Made out of an eight and a zero. Or eight tens. Or ten eights. Quatre-vingt. Made out of four twenties. Vastly different outcomes, my dear! Vastly different form!’’ Then he glares at the other students for failing to ask him such an interesting question. He berates them that they’ve been learning Arithmancy for years prior to Ginny and that they ought to be ashamed of themselves. Ginny snickers when Abraxas decides to give her money for her mental fortitude. Apparently: ‘’Points mean nothing!’’

* * *

Voldemort asks one day, whilst in class with just three students because everyone else is sick: ‘’I cannot believe how few competent students there are.’’

And then Luna, without missing a beat, dares to say: ‘’Oh, I suppose the good ones are all dead.’’ She blinks, owlishly at the frightened crimson gaze Voldemort awards her with.

Ginny both wants to laugh and cry and shout. But she doesn’t. Instead she writes a row of letters with numbers underneath them. She wants to practise Arithmancy whenever her breath stops dead in her throat. It helps. It helps. And it’s  _ rare. _

‘’Miss Lovegood,’’ Voldemort whispers, ‘’don’t be so blasé about such things.’’

Luna blinks again. Having heard him, but appearing as if she hasn’t.

* * *

Abraxas makes sure that none of his Arithmancy students are allowed to go home for the holidays because they don’t know anything about anything and he will whip them into shape, if it’s the last thing he does.

Everyone’s got winter break except for them. They have lessons every single day. Except on Fridays because Fridays are good days to relax. ‘’A five is a day for relaxation!’’

Ginny doesn’t have a problem with that. Going back to Malfoy Manor is the last thing on her mind. She exchanges letters with Narcissa, often, though. Narcissa’s kind and kindness is something Ginny holds close to her heart. 

* * *

Luna goes home and sends Ginny a letter.

Ginny reads the letter.

And then she laughs. And then she giggles. And then she’s choking because Luna’s so forthright about these things and kind and strangely weird about telling people her feelings.

_ What’s better: Ginevra Molly Lovegood or Luna Pandora Weasley? I don’t have Arithmancy anymore, so you ought to know better. _

And then there’s a cute drawing of Luna and Ginny smiling. 

* * *

Abraxas Malfoy is a man who has very little respect for others. He respects Ginny and she’s flattered. He’s teaching her how to dance because he remembers that she comes from a poor house – and he says it in such horror that doesn’t even make fun of her (how Lucius and Draco have done in the past).

‘’A lady ought to know how to dance!’’

Ginny scoffs. Abraxas twirls her.

‘’I’m not a lady.’’

‘’No?’’ Abraxas begins forcing Ginny to lead their dance, then. ‘’You’re the dashing knight in shining armour, come to protect your princess, then?’’

Ginny nods, grinning up at the man she’s associated with rebellion and knowledge. He’s so open and uncaring about other people’s feelings about him leading his life.

‘’Is your princess fond of you?’’ Abraxas asks, guiding her movements into proper form. Ginny nods at the correction, and at the questions. After graduation they’re both going to try living together. Luna’s so easy to be around. They’ve been friends for ages and being more than friends doesn’t change anything in their dynamic. It just means that they’ll change their names at some point.

‘’I’m very glad to hear that!’’

And he is.

That’s what causes Ginny to burst into laughter.

Abraxas Malfoy freely loves and freely shares his happiness.

* * *

Ginny and Luna go on walks together, hands held in each other’s palms. Luna begins swinging their hands and Ginny snickers, but she helps the gesture. From outside, if anyone’s watching them – they look delightfully stupid. 

* * *

Ginny still hates Voldemort, but Luna doesn’t.

‘’How can you just forgive him?’’

‘’I haven’t. Nor will I. I just don’t waste energy hating.’’ 

* * *

Voldemort has an abundance of patience and Luna has an equal amount of it to spend. What dark magic Voldemort’s teaching his star pupil, Ginny both wants to know and doesn’t want to. Luna seems perfectly unharmed and while this continues to be the case, Ginny won’t ask questions she isn’t sure she wants answered.

* * *

Luna asks Ginny why they’ve split up.

‘’Who?’’ Ginny nearly has a heart attack because she’s drowsy and sleep deprived and thinks that Luna’s implied that  _ they’ve _ split up

Luna points at Abraxas and then as Ginny’s following her finger moving from one end of the staff table to the other – she finds that her gaze lands on Voldemort. A shudder courses through her.

Trying to recall a young monster named Tom she remembers that he’s told her about a girl called Abbie Mallory whose hair is magnificently soft and that her smile can light up even the darkest hour. Tom’s always been a caged creature who’s latched onto writing poetry for Ginny, in exchange for her life force. A pretty bad deal, and that poem for Harry ( _ Harry _ ) is silly and stupid, at best.

‘’Abbie Mallory.’’ Ginny tastes the syllables on her mouth after years. It sounds a lot like Abraxas Malfoy.

Ginny snorts into her hand. Different times, with different beliefs in what love is allowed to be. Ginny kisses Luna’s hand and the girl smiles. They’re luckier than most.

‘’I don’t know. Have you asked him?’’ Ginny asks.

Luna shakes her head. ‘’That’s not the right question to ask.’’ Luna knows Divination. She respects the leaves. Ginny has no respect for bloody leaves.

A few days later, Ginny decides to ask Abraxas what his deal with Voldmort is. She expects evasion or a reprimand for her nerve, but she actually gets an answer. Why has she been conditioned to only expect reprimands and evasion from adults?

‘’It’s very complicated, my dear girl.’’ Abraxas says that when you love someone who’s never been loved there’s only heartbreak to be found because that person is – at best –a manipulator who wants to string you along and bleed you dry – and at most honest – a person who has no idea how to reciprocate that love and now you’re just realising that both of you are trapped and have no idea how to conduct yourselves and it’s much easier to fake your own death than to face a madman you love flounder about in your home with little to no soul in his chest.

Ginny’s head swims with the power of that answer. She asks, bluntly, because Abraxas has shown her that being blunt has nothing to do with being a Gryffindor and a blood traitor: ‘’Do you want him back?’

Abraxas peers at her intensely. His silver eyes poke holes through Ginny’s freckles.

Ginny continues: ‘’I mean, why else would he want you so close to him?’’ Abraxas doesn’t say anything, his mind is in overdrive however and he’s drafting numbers and adding and subtracting and dividing and multiplying and meshing words together and disbanding them. ‘’If he wanted you dead you’d be dead. Luna said he looks at you and you never see him.’’

Ginny wants nothing more than for Voldemort to die. But she wants the best for this man in front of her. This adult who’s shown her that there’s structure in the world still and that you can take your future and mould it to how you want it to be. For this man she will go above and beyond.

‘’I had him in my head, you know.’’ Ginny’s sure that Abraxas does know, but he doesn’t interrupt her and that’s such a strange thing to be happy for. All of the adults in her life have always interrupted her and called her young and fragile and girlish and unknowing of the world order outside her bubble.

Abraxas faintly nods. Ginny’s sitting in his office and curling into herself because that’s been a long time ago, but not long enough for her to forget how frightening losing time and being possessed is. ‘’He said he wrote poetry for this girl he liked.’’

He scoffs, muttering about muggles and their backward prejudice. Ginny thinks that mages are just as guilty of backward prejudice. She doesn’t say anything, though. Because that’s a whole other conversation. She chips at her finger with her fingernail absentmindedly. ‘’Abbie Mallory – that’s you, though, right?’’ Abraxas nods. ‘’And he read me some of it because I wanted him to prove to me that he knew how to write poetry before he would help me write this poem for Harry.’’ Ginny thinks that this is the first time she’s dared to say his name aloud. Tears well in her brown eyes. ‘’He was so bloody in love with you.’’

Ginny remembers Voldemort at his victory on the 2 nd of May in 1998. Then she compares him to the day when he’s found out that Abraxas Malfoy is alive, on August 25 th in 1998. And Ginny doesn’t need to think or ponder at which date their Defence professor’s been happier.

‘’He chose for you to be here – not to punish you, but to share Hogwarts with you. To offer you a home with him.’’ Ginny remembers Tom talking about Hogwarts like it’s the safest, kindest, most homely place in the world.

Abraxas turns away, contemplating. Wandlessly he conjures himself parchment, summons a quil and inkwell, and goes to work. Ginny leaves, halfway through, because she’s hungry and her friend is not about to stop any time soon. 

* * *

Luna kisses Ginny underneath a laburnum tree in spring. She cups her hands and she leads her to bliss. Ginny closes her eyes to immerse herself in this feeling of joy twanging between them.

* * *

There’s an end of the year ball. It’s something of an old tradition that’s fallen out of use. Abraxas sees that he’s brought it back and he’s decked out in the worst type of robes Ginny has ever seen. She thinks that Albus Dumbledore’s worn more plain robes. There’s vertical lines, horizontal lines, diagonal lines, all while the colours reminisce a peacock’s feathered tail when about to court a small, simple peahen.

Voldemort’s wearing a deep purple robe with silver snakes coiling around. Compared to Abraxas’ choice in wardrobe it’s simple and plain.

Luna’s wearing white and Ginny’s wearing blue because blue goes well with her hair. Narcissa’s given her some fashion advice.

Luna has heeded nobody’s fashion advice. She wears earrings made of pomegranate seeds and a flower crown atop her head made of sunflowers. Ginny feels positively plain in front of her, even with the gemstones following along her seams. They clasp their hands together and dance. Ginny leads. Luna lets her.

Glancing towards the staff table, Ginny sees Abraxas Malfoy slowly inching towards where Voldemort’s sitting. It’s a hilarious sight because Abraxas is frowning and Voldemort’s face is scrunched up in sheer disbelief the closer Abraxas gets.

The closer Abraxas gets the angrier he gets and Ginny’s laughing so hard at the way Voldemort even thinks about getting up and fleeing. From out of his abominable robe, Abraxas digs up a parchment roll wrapped with a string. Which he doesn’t toss at Voldemort, or hand it over gently – no he actually raps the man over his head with it once, gives it to the tyrant turned professor, and sits down next to him. They steam in silence, both of them, as Voldemort peers at the long parchment roll.

Luna begins leading, realising that her lover is distracted. When the song ends they sit down and glance at the staff table in anticipation.

The way Voldemort looks at Abraxas, Ginny finds, is the most human look she’s ever seen on the man. Abraxas’ lips curl in triumph. He snatches the parchment roll back from Voldemort and whispers something that has both of them laughing. Abraxas’ laugh is hearty and bold and Voldemort’s is reluctant and soft and hopeful.

Ginny’s still so angry when she remembers the world she lives in, but she’s not angry enough to forget that she can still have happiness amidst the pain. It’s not the best way to live, but as she looks at Luna, Ginny thinks it’s a good enough way to live.

The End 

**Author's Note:**

> MM, Merry Christmas! <3


End file.
